


i can't be as sorry as you think i should

by theagonyofblank



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-15
Updated: 2010-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:05:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theagonyofblank/pseuds/theagonyofblank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Siobhan’s a loner. Always has been, always will be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i can't be as sorry as you think i should

**Author's Note:**

> written for the [lost girl comment ficathon](http://theagonyofblank.livejournal.com/157202.html), & originally posted [here](http://theagonyofblank.livejournal.com/157202.html?thread=1099538#t1099538) for [](http://immortality.livejournal.com/profile)[**immortality**](http://immortality.livejournal.com/).
>
>>   
>  **i can't be as sorry as you think i should**  
>  the banshee; pg; 750 words.  
> prompt: it gets lonely, when no one wants to hang with you, because you might predict their death.

the banshee ( **BAN-shee** ); a female spirit, usually seen as an omen of death

siobhan’s a loner.

always has been, always will be.

she figures it comes with the territory; she’s a banshee, after all, and that kind of thing doesn’t usually skip generations. her mother was one, as was her grandmother before her; she could probably trace the line back to the early eighteen hundreds, but she won’t. she’s heard it enough times from her relatives that she doesn’t need to recite it, again and again.

 _it’s something you should be proud of,_ her mother says to her when she’s seven and her eyes are raw and she can still feel tears trailing paths down her cheek, down her neck. her chest is inexplicably tight and it hurts, it hurts so much and her mother doesn’t understand and maybe she never has. she feels small and unwanted and _why won’t anyone talk to me, mother?_

siobhan’s known, since that day, what it means to be a banshee.

she learns, slowly, that the reason alannah o’grady doesn’t talk to her after the first day – when they had made plans to share lunch the next day, when they had decided to go to the park after school – was because her parents _forbade her to_. it’s the same reason why liam o’neill, ciara o’brien, aidan o’connor, and declan kavanagh refuse to _look_ at her, much less _talk_ to her.

(as though _that_ would prevent her from wailing).

but it starts off a chain reaction;

once the children of the noble families don’t acknowledge her, neither do the other children. it’s like this for the rest of her years, and she even gets used to it: she spends her days alone at her desk, recess alone at the swings, and only when she goes home does she find some relief. but family is family, and being independent doesn’t mean _not lonely_ , and sometimes, just sometimes, siobhan wishes she had some _friends_.

\---

she’s twelve when she meets nolan. he’s the quiet type, and no one else notices him – not even her mother or grandmother or even her teacher, miss gallagher, who usually sees everything – and so she tells him everything. tells him how she feels, how there’s this feeling she can’t shake and how _heavy_ it is, sometimes. tells him he’s a good friend, but it’s _not the same_.

(she likes to think he understands).

when she’s sixteen, she wails for the first time.

it’s not at all a pleasant feeling, though it’s not exactly unpleasant, either. _strange,_ perhaps, would be the word for it. one minute she’s there and the next – well, she’s still there, but her head is pounding and the world is spinning and _why is everyone staring at her?_ the principal sends her home – he sends everyone home – and the minute she sets foot in the doorway, she collapses.

 _at least they didn’t try to feed you the steak,_ her mother says when she awakes, dabbing at her face with a cold towel. her head is still throbbing and she feels like she’s been run over by a bus, but at least the world isn’t off-kilter anymore. she doesn’t think much of her mother’s words at first, and only later does she learn what they mean.

that night, aisling o’brien – ciara’s mother – dies.

siobhan looks for nolan shortly after that, but he’s nowhere to be found.

(she never sees him again).

\---

she gets used to it, the wailing.

and the ones that follow aren’t all bad, in terms of how she feels in the aftermath. she never feels like she has to hurl after, and she can usually stand up and walk straight. she’s taken to exiting the room after a wail – but she’s never been able to get used to the _staring_.

it’s not _her_ fault she wails; it’s just part of who she is.

in a way, siobhan’s glad she’s a banshee.

she figures it saves her the trouble of figuring out who’s a true friend, and who’s not. of course, she doesn’t really _have_ any friends. she’s friendly with a few people, but she never expects that to last very long – most last till the first wail, and then they’re gone, even if the wail isn’t meant for them.

(it never is).

she’d say she doesn’t mind being left ( _always being left_ ), but that would be a lie.

(it only hurts more every day).

  
-


End file.
